
One day, Michael Angelo (no relation) felt the call of nature and entered the men’s bathroom at his local shopping mall. The bathroom appeared empty as he quietly stepped into a stall. He was lowering his trousers, when he realized that someone, indeed, was occupying the second stall to his left. As Michael sat upon his throne, pondering the big questions of life (What am I doing this Friday night? I wonder who will win the playoffs? Did humankind really land on the moon?), he heard a gruff voice from the stall begin to speak, as though dictating a memo to a secretary:
***
“This message has got to get out to our agents as soon as possible,” began the voice in a hushed tone. “The public are beginning to awaken to their essential nature and attempting to gain the upper hand. That’s not going to happen–not under my reign. We’ve got to use all of our resources. Humans are highly susceptible to fear, and ignorant of their own latent abilities; we’re going to use that to our advantage. Release as many fearful stories as possible, regarding every type of event far and wide. Ensure that the incidents appear real, and back them up with video clips of officials reporting on scene. Flood the public with images and stories of hatred, racism, and violence–via print media, television, radio, and mobile devices–with a subtlety that won’t be noticed. Use subliminal messages when you’re certain that they won’t be detected. If anyone hassles you, get back to me and I’ll take care of the matter. Bribe anyone willing to take the money; and if that doesn’t work, use blackmail. Beyond that, hire violence; but ensure that any deaths appear accidental. It’s important that any hint of resistance is squashed immediately.”
***
And just as quickly as the voice had begun speaking, it abruptly stopped. As Michael listened quietly, with the back of his neck becoming clammy, he suddenly smelled a foul odour emanating from the stall to his left. The stench seemed the perfect punctuation to the end of the evil message. When he heard the stall door rasp open, he silently lifted his feet off the floor so that his presence wouldn’t be noticed.
Michael assumed that the character must have been the devil–what else could be that menacing and evil? Unbeknownst to him, the unidentified figure appeared much like you or me. Just for the record, he didn’t wash his hands.
Dare to dream (and care for one another).
With heartfelt regards,
Art
Copyright © – 2025 – R. Arthur Russell
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